


the sea in a postcard

by casdoms (moffwithhishead)



Series: season 10 codas [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Withdrawal, Episode Tag, Episode: s10e11 There's No Place Like Home, M/M, Past Relationship(s), discussed potential/future character death, very brief mentions of being cut by glass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:10:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3254288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moffwithhishead/pseuds/casdoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hurt her," is all Dean manages to get out when he answers his phone before he drops the bottle in his hands.</p><p>It shatters into what feels like a thousand pieces all over the floor and Dean drops to his knees without thinking, lands on some of the glass, and hisses, "Shit."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sea in a postcard

**Author's Note:**

> episode coda/tag/whatever. this is sad. dean is sad. cas is sad. I'm sad. you're probably sad too.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> **warnings:** mentions of purgatory, cas alluding to what naomi making him kill dean, extensive crypt scene discussion, implied past relationship between the two of them, pining!dean. discussion of the fact that they're both dying. dean drops a bottle of whiskey and accidentally cuts his hands.  
> 

** "His eyes were the same color as the sea in a postcard someone **

** sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay." **

\- Warsan Shire

 

* * *

 

"I hurt her," is all Dean manages to get out when he answers his phone before he drops the bottle in his hands.

It shatters into what feels like a thousand pieces all over the floor and Dean drops to his knees without thinking, lands on some of the glass, and hisses, " _Shit_." 

Castiel sounds alarmed on the other end of the phone, " _Dean? Dean, are you alright? That sounded like breaking glass -_ "

Dean grunts and manages to scoot back enough so he's not sitting on something besides glass, "Yeah, I'm uh..." His right hand in bleeding and his left hand probably is too, if the dull ache is anything to go by, but it feels like he's looking at someone else's hands.

"Yeah man, I'm good." 

He hates lying to Cas. It's only ever made shit worse for them but he's not - he's getting tired of people looking at him like that. Like he knows Cas is staring at whatever is in front of him, like he's waiting for the moment when Dean is gonna snap and kill everybody.

To be fair though, Dean's been looking at himself that way too.

" _Dean? Are you listening to me?_ " 

His best friend's voice sounds farther away than usual and Dean rubs a hand over his face as he mumbles, "Zoned out." 

" _How much have you had to drink?_ " 

The question catches him off guard and he snorts, "Christ... what, is Sammy taking a nap or somethin'? Called you to make sure I'm not left alone."

Castiel's silence confirms that for Dean and he groans, "Fuck you, dude. Fuck both of you."

" _Dean_ ," the other man sounds exhausted, " _Dean, we just want to make sure that you're ok._ "

He makes a choked noise that might be a laugh, it might be a sob, it's hard to tell. "You just want to make sure I'm  _ **okay**_?" 

That time he  **does**  laugh and it's genuine in a way that it hasn't been in a while, "Christ buddy, I think it might be a little late for that. Like, 36 years too late."

" _Dean_..." 

"No, Cas, seriously?" Dean growls, all trace of humor in his voice gone, "I'm not a child. I've been dealing with this..." He stares at the mark for a minute while he tries to think of the right word, " _Thing_  for months now and neither one of you ever fucking bothered to ask what was wrong."

He stands up and starts pacing around his room, "And now - now that I let it get the best of me one time,  _one fucking time_ , I'm what? Suddenly I'm important to you? To  _Sam_?" 

He's pissed and he can feel the Mark throbbing, screaming to destroy something. Someone. Everything. 

"Suddenly I'm worth giving a shit about because you're  _scared of me_?" He spits out, knowing that his anger isn't covering up the hurt in his voice, "No, fuck you guys.  _ **Fuck you**_."

Castiel sighs, " _Dean, you know that's not true._ " 

"Isn't it though?" Dean goes over to his bedroom door and rests his forehead against it, gently hitting the door with his fist, "You know what Sam said the other day? He said 'maybe you just have to keep fighting, Dean.' Can you believe that? Like all I've been doing is sitting on my ass and twiddling my thumbs."

" _Dean, your brother is just trying to help you_ ," Cas says quietly, like he has no energy to argue anymore. " _That's all we want, Dean. We just want to keep you safe_." 

Dean huffs a bitter laugh, "Yeah, well, it doesn't really feel like it." 

Castiel's voice lowers to a quiet murmur, " _Dean, how much have you had to drink...?_ "

"I had three shots  _ **two days ago**_  before I beat the living shit out of Charlie, okay? That's it."

He dropped the bottle of whiskey before he could drink of it anyway so this time it's not a lie. Cas doesn't need to know that his plans for tonight were to drink himself into an 8 hour coma. 

He feels like shit and his hands keep shaking and at this point, he's not sure if it's the Mark or going cold turkey. He's guessing it's both.

Castiel seems to consider that answer before sighing after a few minutes, " _Okay. I believe you._ "

It shouldn't make Dean's chest swell with pride as much as it does.

"Thank fuck," he mumbles instead of expressing his sincere gratitude for at least that much trust. 

It's quiet for a few minutes as they both try to think of something to say that isn't fighting or snapping at each other. Dean hates that this is what their relationship is like right now, especially when it feels like there's a giant neon countdown hanging over their heads.

" _Charlie doesn't blame you, you know,_ " Castiel finally settles on.

Yeah, he knows. Trouble is that he  _does_. 

"Well, the kid's always been a little too forgiving," he mumbles and reaches over to grab a water bottle from his nightstand. 

Cas sighs tiredly, " _Dean, from what I understand Charlie's darkness was attacking you. You didn't start the fight. After that, it was the Mark, it wasn't **you**.  **You**  would never do that, Dean.  **You**  would never hurt Charlie._" 

"Yeah, well..." Dean huffs a breath and shakes his head even though Cas can't see him. He pulls at the label on the water bottle, trying to keep his hands busy.

Trying to ignore the bruises on his knuckles, the blood that's drying on his palms, the cuts from the glass. He'll need to clean those soon.

"Maybe it wasn't me, Cas, but it sure as hell was my hands doing it. I got the bruises, the cuts to prove it."

He's got the nightmares too, of Sam not stopping him and Charlie dying because of him, but he's not going to mention that. Cas probably knows, anyway. He always seems to know. 

" _Dean_ ," Cas sighs and Dean can just picture him shaking his head with a small smile on his face. It's the same smile he always gets when Dean's being an idiot about something, the one that makes Dean feel both defensive and loved all at once. 

His voice gets unexpectedly serious with the next thing he says. 

" _I... there's some things that you don't know about what Naomi -_ " He lets out a breath, " _About the things that happened to me during that time._ " 

Dean growls without meaning to and his back straightens up, "What the fuck did she do to you, Cas?" 

The asshole actually laughs quietly, " _Dean, I am, as you would say, 'a grown ass man.' I can take care of myself, especially since Naomi is gone._ " 

The regretful tone in his voice makes the Mark burn a little on Dean's arm. 

" _Dean, I know what that's like... you **know**  I know what that's like._" 

Dean squeezes his eyes closed at the memory of the crypt, of the thing he almost said, and he fights the urge to hang up the phone. 

Instead he clears his throat and tries not to sound like he wants to throw up, "Yeah, I remember." 

If it's possible to hear someone wince over the phone, Dean's pretty sure he just heard it. 

" _There were..._ " Cas pauses for a moment, " _I - I can't truly explain what happened but there were other things. That she - that she made me do. That I did for her._ " 

Dean feels his stomach turn just thinking about Cas like that, at the mercy of someone who had only ever hurt the people you cared about.

" _And I have spent... I have spent much of my time since trying to sort out those feelings._ " 

He wants to laugh because Cas trying to sort things out generally involves a lot of lists and a big pin board with 'evidence' and pictures. He would've loved to see that, to help Cas deal with it if he was allowed to.

" _The things that I did -_ " He sighs and he must run a hand over his face or something because there's a rustle over the phone. 

" _I did those things because I had no choice in the matter. The choice to do those things, to carry out those actions, was out of my control. I was - I was not myself. I was a puppet for Naomi_." 

Castiel takes his time before speaking again, clearly trying to pick his words carefully, " _But... they were still my hands. Those were still my memories. It was still what is now my body. It may not have been my choice but I was still the one who..._ " He cuts himself off with a pained noise.

Dean's chest  **aches**  with the desire to make it better.

" _My point -_ " Castiel clears his throat and sounds more determined, " _My point is that I understand what you're feeling right now. To a certain extent, at least._ "

"Cas," he hates how rough his voice is, "The Mark isn't - it's not Naomi. I can control it... sometimes, anyway."

" _I am aware_ ," is Castiel's dry answer. It startles a laugh out of Dean. 

" _I am aware of how it works - but I... eventually I did break the control Naomi had over me, Dean. And I believe that we will figure out a way for you to be able to do that as well._ " 

He huffs a laugh, not believing it for a single second, and takes a swig of the water before answering, "Yeah? Mind if I ask what the hell snapped you out of it?" 

Castiel's answer is simple, immediate and reverent in a way that terrifies Dean.

" ** _You_**."

If he had water in his mouth, he would've choked on it. "You -" Dean sputters for a moment, "How the hell did I snap you out of  **that**?" 

Castiel sounds distinctly uncomfortable and overwhelmingly guilty when he answers, " _I... when I - when I hurt you. In the..._ " He can't quite bring himself to say it.

" _Naomi, was, ah..._ " He clears his throat, " _She was... talking to me the whole time. And -_ " Cas shifts the phone and sounds more determined, like he's a full-fledged angel again on a mission to smite somebody, " _She asked me to choose. And - what you said. To me. I - I heard it. And I..._ "

" _I made my choice. And the connection was broken._ "

Dean makes a slightly anguished noise and jesus christ, he could really use a drink right now. Or a bottle. Or a whole case of whiskey.

"Why?" He hears himself ask in a choked voice, "Why'd you -?"

" _I left..._ " Castiel doesn't sound much better. " _I left because - Dean, you have to understand. What I had been through, what I had done. I wasn't - I knew. If I stayed, you would be put in danger._ "

He feels the growl in his own voice more than he hears it, " ** _Bullshit_**."

" _I was wrong to leave the way I did,_ " Castiel cuts him off before he can say anything else, " _And it is one of the things I regret most in the world, Dean, truly. I owed you an explanation. I - I owed you that much._ "

Dean wipes his cheeks off determinedly and pretends that he isn't crying, that he doesn't want to shove his head through a wall or, or -

He shakes his head, tries to knock that thought out of his head.  ** _No_**.

As hurt as he is, even still, and as mad as he wants to be, he can't. Not today, not right now, not when he - when he has an idea of how Cas probably felt. Apparently there was more shit that happened that Dean didn't know about so he could be wrong, this could be totally different, but...

He knows what it's like to feel your body go into autopilot and to almost black out. He knows what it's like to see your hands killing somebody you love and not being able to stop yourself. He knows, now. He gets it.

"Okay," he breathes out eventually. It's probably just a few minutes later but it feels like it's been hours.

Castiel stays quiet for a few minutes after that himself, probably waiting for Dean to snap and take it back. Or hang up on him. Tell him to fuck off. Tell him he never wants to see him again.

Tell him he doesn't love him anymore. 

" _I can't imagine how... terrifying this is for you,_ " is what he seems to settle on as a response. " _I wish there was something I could do to help you now._ " 

"You could be here," Dean mumbles a little bit and stares down at his feet, "You could come home."

He hears the other man let out a pained breath, " _Dean..._ " 

"I know -" Dean starts, but cuts himself off after a moment. God, everything is  ** _so_**  fucked up. 

"I know in purgatory - I know that a lot of it was bullshit. What you - what you said. To me. About going home and how things would be different. About how - it would be better."

He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces a little, "And I know why. I get it. You were just... I knew that something was off with you. But you were just trying to make us both feel better. I get that. But... do you remember what you said to me? That first night after we found you?" 

The chuckle that receives from the other man is genuine and warm, if not a little pained, " _Yes, Dean. I remember._ " 

"You said that..." He takes a shuddering breath, "You  ** _promised_**  that it would be different. That we could be... whatever we were."

He swallows at the memory of Cas curled up next to him on the bed of leaves with Benny keeping watch. The light dancing off the water of the pond next to them highlighting his face, making him glow. The small smile and the finger he'd used to trace Dean's lips, his nose. To connect his freckles. 

"That?  ** _That_**  was real, Cas. I know when you're lying and that..." Dean sighs, looks up at the ceiling of his bedroom and hopes there are answers written up there. 

There aren't. 

"I'm not great with words but, Cas... it's easier. When you're around, everything's just... it doesn't feel so heavy."

He knows that Cas has his back in a way that's different from Sam, from Benny, from Charlie or even from John. It's something that he can  _feel_  in his bones, that Cas won't ever not be on his side. That there will never be a time when they're not fighting to protect each other.

Castiel smiles and Dean swears he can hear it, " _I... I am acquainted with that feeling, yes._ "

Dean snorts despite himself and mumbles, "Yeah, well... I'm here, man. I got no idea where the hell you are, but I'm here. And I don't know how to fix you, and I know you've got no idea how to fix me, but maybe... it could just be the one countdown till doomsday."

" _I know you may not believe me,_ " Cas sighs quietly, " _And I... have given you no reason to believe me if I am being honest with myself. But - I want that as well, Dean. I want to be back at the bunker. I want - I want to be home._ "

"Bunker's not goin' anywhere." Dean tries to keep his voice light. He fails. 

" _But if I am dying, Dean? If this truly is it for me..._ " He clears his throat, " _I don't know if I can make amends in heaven or with Claire. But_   _I **can**  find Cain. If I find him, he  **can**  help. He can help you, Dean._" 

Dean makes a slightly frustrated noise, "Cas, either way I'm gone. If the Mark doesn't kill me, it'll get me killed. Even if Cain shares his secret on how to join the Mark of Cain Support Group, I'm still going to be a ticking time bomb. I'm still going to be a... Knight of Hell or monster or demon or whatever." 

Cas is silent for a long time. Almost too long.

The radio in the background plays at least two songs, starts in on a third, before he finally opens his mouth again. 

" _I love you, Dean Winchester. I always will._ " 

He feels his breath catch in his throat and answering feels like trying to talk through molasses or concrete being poured into his mouth. "Yeah, man, I..." Dean winces and laughs a little disbelievingly, "Me too."

" _I will be home as soon as I can._ " 

It's not an answer, not by a long shot. It's a distraction. It's a 'Cas has his mind set on something and he's not going to be talked out of it' kind of answer. 

But Dean's just desperate enough that he'll take it.

"I'll be here." 

* * *

 

" _A true relationship is two unperfect_  
_people refusing to give up on each other._ "

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at samerasure :)


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